Chapter Ten #2
“I didn’t think they’d stick around once they were older,” he explained, “so I never bothered to name them. Ethan took them from the school, but they ended up here.”
Hope nodded, realizing she wasn’t the first of Ethan’s rejects to end up being looked after by Jackson. She wondered if he thought she wouldn’t stick around either, and that was why he wasn’t bothering to get to know her.
“I’ll remember the trick about the milk,” Hope said. “Will you be home for supper tonight, husband?”
Jackson looked at her for the first time since she had gotten there, and he seemed to relax when he saw she was smiling.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know I’ve been busy. There’s been a lot of sabotage in the area and we have to keep checking all the fence lines.”
“Sabotage?” Hope repeated with a frown. “What kind of sabotage?”
“It’s not serious enough for you to worry about,” he said with a tired smile.
Hope bit back on her words. So often Daniel had told her not to worry about where their next meal would come from, only for her to end up doing precisely that.
“Is that a yes to supper then?” she asked, changing the subject back to her earlier question.
Jackson removed the now-sleeping cats from his lap as he stood up and dusted straw off his trousers. Hope stood up too, looking up at him.
“Thank you for bringing me breakfast,” he said, taking the plate she had left on a nearby hay bale. “I look forward to dinner.”
Hope smiled shyly before turning to leave. “See you later.”
***
“It’s beautiful,” Margaret praised, giving Hope a squeeze. “Where did you learn to roast a piece of beef like that? Your Ma?”
Hope shook her head. “My Ma was often too sickly to cook, so she taught me at a young age. After her passing, I got a lot of experience through trial and error.”
“She’d be very proud of you,” Margaret said fondly, her expression suddenly turning serious. “How old were you when your Ma passed away?”
“Twelve,” Hope replied, looking up at Margaret.
Margaret blinked away tears as she busied herself with dishes that were already clean, muttering something about the tragedies of life.
Hope found the openness of Margaret’s warmth and emotion touching after dealing with her grief alone for years.
Daniel had always been so removed, and she’d never really had anyone to talk to about her parents’ death.
“Your apple pie, dear,” Margaret said, dabbing her nose with a handkerchief.
Hope jumped up and hurried to the oven, peeking at her pie. The pastry crust was golden, and the scent of cinnamon and apples set her mouth watering. She pulled it out and set it on window sill to cool, staring at it proudly.
“It looks wonderful,” Margaret said with a smile.
“Do you think Jackson will like it?” Hope asked nervously.
Margaret checked outside the kitchen window. “If he remembers,” Margaret said with an annoyed click of her tongue. She turned back to Hope and smiled. “I’ll go look for him in a few minutes if he doesn’t arrive soon.”
“He said something about having to check the fence lines,” Hope said with a shrug. “There’s been sabotage in the area apparently.”
“Sabotage?” Margaret repeated, an edge to her voice. She quickly replaced her frown with a smile. “Jackson always makes sure everything is in order, so I’m sure he will see to it. And look, here he comes. I’m sure he smelt your pie baking.”
Hope felt a nervous twist in her stomach as Jackson walked into the room and tossed his hat on a hook behind the door.
She’d thought his face might light up at the sight of the fully laid table, but he barely seemed to notice it as he dropped into a chair with a sigh.
She tried to hide her disappointment as he waded his way through his meal with the same eagerness as he had his breakfast porridge.
“How are things on the ranch, dear?” Margaret asked gently.
“Some fences were cut,” he muttered gruffly, pausing to shovel a whole potato into his mouth.
Hope wondered if that was why his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.
“Is it serious?” Margaret asked, echoing Hope’s own worries.
Jackson shrugged. “I’ll get back to see how the hands are getting on as soon as I’m finished here.”
At that, he cleared his plate of gravy and pushed it away before standing up.
“Wouldn’t you like some apple pie?” Hope pleaded, her own food almost untouched.
Jackson froze, holding his hat in midair. It was as if at that moment he noticed all the food, the table settings, and the candles for the first time. He looked embarrassed, his eyes darting away from hers.
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much effort,” he muttered, before storming out of the kitchen.
Hope felt crushed. If food didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest, then she was at a loss. She leaned back in her chair and pushed her own plate away, her appetite abandoning her.
“There, there,” Margaret soothed. “If I know my Jackson, then he must have something weighty on his mind to pass up freshly baked apple pie. He’ll be in here after dark, shoveling down slice after slice with some coffee, believe me. You’ll think the rats got into it, but that’s just Jackson.”
Hope nodded in silence. She knew that Margaret was trying to make her feel like less of a failure, but she didn’t have the heart to reply.
“He’s a good man,” Margaret said quietly. “That I can promise you.”
“I don’t know what else to do,” Hope said in a whisper. She felt silly for letting Jackson upset her, but this was her life now. She couldn’t lose another man as she had Daniel.
“Oh now, dear,” Margaret patted her hand. “I’ll tell you what to do. You eat this meal that you slaved over, and you enjoy it while it’s hot. Then you have yourself some pie and put your feet up.”
“But how does that help-”
“For a start,” Margaret cut her off, “it’ll make you feel better. And secondly, sometimes just giving a matter time will show you how best to handle it.”
That’s what she had thought about Daniel, and that had ended in her abandoning him and running away. She nibbled away at a slice of perfectly pink roast beef and felt a little better. By the end of a slice of pie, she had decided how she would tackle the following day.